


Fine Line

by captaincaitay



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincaitay/pseuds/captaincaitay
Summary: The world continued on after the Blip. Some people held onto their memories and some people moved on with their lives. Despite the loss and heaviness of the world around them, five years passed and people kept living. But when the snap was reversed, the Blipped returned to lives that had continued without them. Some families were reunited, and some Blipped came back to empty homes and broken families. Through that loss, seeking someone who understands how their feeling may not be the worse idea as the Blipped try to navigate a world that’s different than what they remember.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. Fire and Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look don't START WITH ME when I get an itch I scratch it

For a lot of people, the blip brought back loved ones and injured broken hearts. Families were repaired and friends reunited with one another. But for some (or a lot of people) they were put back into a life that had moved on without them. In some cases, significant others moved on and started lives with others, friends suddenly weren’t around, family members passed during the years they were gone - for a lot of people it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows when they came back from being blipped. Although little to no time had passed for them, five years passed for the world. It still continued on its axis along with everyone on it.

Being blipped back into existence and then with the outcome of what life was left for you, it was like a rug had been pulled out from your feet. The man you were supposed to be marrying (married to?) had moved on with his life a couple years after your wiping. So for you to return in the same spot of the living room you shared with him, right in front of him and his new wife with their several month old son, wasn’t an ideal way to be thrusted back into life. It was painful to have to watch him love another, but what could be done? He started a family without you, and it took you a couple weeks before you moved back in with your parents. At least they were still around.

Their New Jersey home felt foreign to you now, though they did welcome you back with open arms. They always would, you didn’t doubt it, but the glaring reality of your life was still weighing on your shoulders. Your parents watched you fall into a pit of despair and didn’t know how to help you. You didn’t know how to help you. Most days you sat there and fiddled with the engagement ring on your finger. You couldn’t seem to bring yourself to remove it even though it didn’t mean as much now. Not to Derek at least. Or maybe not in the way you had looked at it.

Taking residence in the bedroom you grew up in was distracting to say the least. You were often reminded of the life you once had while living under this roof. Before Derek, before the blip, before all of this. Here you sat in the desk chair in front of your computer with your chin rested on your knee, just scrolling aimlessly through Facebook. You ignored the unopened messages of friends and family reaching out, as they also had traces of messages from the past five years as well, and you couldn’t bring yourself to read them. You didn’t know what you were searching for, if you were even looking for anything, but you scrolled nonetheless.

Your finger hovered over the trackpad when one article caught your eye. It was about ways of coping with returning after being blipped. In the dark, and in your three day of old sweats, you decided this was the time to click on the link. Intrigued you pulled the laptop closer and started to read through it.

_Have you returned from the blip and life around you seems to feel different? Maybe empty? Are you struggling with your self worth?_

It was like it was speaking to you and you found yourself nodding your head along with each question. You were all of these things, but the things they were recommending made your face fall once more. Maybe you were stubborn, but the thought of confronting people face to face made your stomach churn. You were about to click out of the article when the last recommendation made you stop.

_Maybe you feel you can’t talk to those around you about what you’re feeling. And that’s okay. But maybe this website can help you._

There was a link and the website was called hoolablip.com It was a bit tongue in cheek but you still found yourself following that link instead. What popped up was a webpage that allowed you to create a profile, and chat with those who were going through the same thing as you were: returning to a life that left them behind.

You bit your lip and hovered over the sign up link. You had avoided your family, friends, the even idea of therapy, but you felt like you were going stir crazy not having someone to talk to about it. This. Your life. Everything. So you impulsively clicked the button, and began to fill out the questions linked to it. You picked a screen name, inputted a basic bio, and filled out some of the questions. It was simple enough of a process, and soon you were on your very own homepage, but suddenly very unaware of what to do now.

There was a message option and you clicked on that, and went over the words in your head.

_What brings you to hoolablip.com? Be as brief or detailed as you’d like. Your message will be sent to a random active user._

Hm. It was a start you guessed. So you slowly typed out a message.

_You: I’m not sure where to really start with this. I can’t talk to my family, my friends wonder where I am but I don’t know where I am either. So… I’m here. Writing to a complete stranger in the hopes maybe someone out there can understand what I’m going through, or feeling. Or maybe tell me what I’m feeling because most days I don’t know myself._

You hovered over your keyboard, unsure of how much to express in just this one message. Or what to even include as far as your personal information. But you just let the words come out.

_My name is (Y/N), and I was blipped three months before I was supposed to marry my college sweetheart. When we came back, if that’s the right way to describe it, I was right back in the living room of the townhome we shared. But it wasn’t my home anymore. The inside changed, and there was a new family there. His family. I can’t seem to forget the shock on his face, and his wife’s face when I just appeared there. It was an awkward conversation to have in the middle of their home. And I can’t shake it. His wife is lovely, their baby is beautiful, but I still can’t shake it. As selfish as that may sound._

As you typed you didn’t realize the tears that had fallen down your cheeks, and you quickly wiped them away.

_I’m not sure how to end this off. So maybe this should be it for now. Maybe it finds someone._

And then you hit send. The tension you had felt like it disappeared when you hit send. You sat back in your chair and looked over the message once more before going back to scroll aimlessly through Facebook. There were a number of posts from your friends about their lives. Outings with pictures attached, videos, the same old thing. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand when the sound of a little ding rang through the speakers.

On the tab you had written that long message was a little number one. You got a message back. Oh god, someone had read your message. In the dark you were taken back, and slowly went back to the tab to see a little chat box that wasn’t there before waiting to be open.

The username attached to it was ominous, but the red notification made you open the chat either way. You lingered over the fact their message was equally as long, and you read it over.

_LoneWolf17: I can assure you that you aren’t the only one who has no idea what to do besides seek solace from strangers. I think it may be easier for us to open up to someone we don’t know, rather than to those around us._

Deep. That was really deep.

_LoneWolf17: I think I can imagine how it must feel to be back in a place that isn’t home anymore. But I can’t imagine how it must feel for you to have to accept the fact he started a life with someone when it was promised to be you. You aren’t selfish. You’re human. And you’re hurt. My name is James. I don’t know what I’m doing here really. I don’t think I have a right to be upset about my best friend leaving me behind to have the simple life he always wanted, but then another part of me thinks that it fucking sucks. He was the only one who believed the best in me when no one else did. He fought for me when everyone else doubted me. We always said we’d stand with one another until the end of the line, but I guess his was finer than mine was._

You had to take a deep breath after that. Though he wasn’t clear on the details, James was hurt by his best friend. And here you were complaining about your love life being in shambles. He still appeared to be online, so you typed up a response.

_You: You may be right about it being easier to talk to a stranger than the people around us. Especially when I guess this is the place for all of us who were blipped. Maybe we get each other. I suddenly feel pretty obtuse for complaining about my love life when you lost your best friend, but I appreciate you saying it’s okay to be hurt. I think that’s all I know how to be right now. What do you mean he left you behind for the simple life, if I can ask?_

And then you hit send. You didn’t know if your message was good, but you were far out of your comfort zone here. You watched your screen to see two little check marks appear and after a few moments his little picture started to type. You found yourself biting at your nails in anticipation of his next message.

_LoneWolf17: It’s a confusing and long story, but he got the girl he always wanted and the life he dreamed of. I won’t be able to see him anymore, though._

You raised a brow, and typed another reply.

_You: Does he not live here anymore? Not that I know where here is.._

You saw his bubbles pop back up almost immediately. And then another message appeared.

_LoneWolf17: Haha yeah something like that. Here being New York._

_You: Oh, you’re nearby._

_LoneWolf17: Oh yeah? You’re in the city too?_

_You: Oh no, not since.. Well. You know. I’m in Jersey right now until I can get back on my feet._

_LoneWolf17: I see, but not too far still._

_You: Haha not too far._

You had migrated with your laptop to your bed, and rested your back against some pillows to watch the screen again. You wondered if you were boring (“dry” you think was a term thrown around now), but you smiled a bit when another message popped up on your screen.

_LoneWolf17: So what’s your plan? To get back on your feet?_

_You: Honestly, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. Wallowing in my self pity has been on my to-do list for the last few weeks. I’m not too sure where to start._

_LoneWolf17: Well this is a start, isn’t it?_

You read over his message once, twice, then three times as you pondered his words. So you settled on this for a reply.

_You: You seem to be a man of many insights, James._

His bubble moved again in an immediate response, and then his message appeared just as quickly.

_LoneWolf17: Call me Bucky._

* * *

Over the course of the next week you found yourself checking the website for more messages from your mysterious pen pal, who you called Bucky. Your conversations were casual but they were enough for you to come to your senses. Just a little bit that was. You had enough energy to get out of bed and shower and change. It wasn’t a lot, but it was a start.

Your parents seemed to notice when one day you even ate a bit of breakfast. Eggs, bacon, and toast. They were little nibbles, but it was enough for some pressure to leave their hearts. You tried to ignore their stares as you carried the piece of toast back to your self proclaimed cave and even opened the blinds to let sunlight in.

That’s where you perched yourself most days and looked out the window to watch people, cars, anything pass by the suburban home you hid in. Each day you searched for something in the faces that passed by, but always came up empty handed. If your frustrations grew enough you’d pour over the exhaustive amount of literature that was packed away in the boxes around you.

You had graduated from NYU with a major in english literature studies with a minor in creative writing. You were on your way to receiving your PhD when everything happened. Though you were still awarded it “in lieu of extenuating circumstances” it felt wrong that you had it. You never really finished the work for it. It felt like a handout, and it stayed in a frame in the boxes as well. There was something you were looking for, and you grazed the spines of each book looking at the titles over and over. . .

There. You pulled the red colored (and heavy) book out and flipped through it. Overlooking the notes and highlights that grazed the pages, you came to a page that was left untouched. You ghosted your fingers over the words and looked at your laptop. You carefully sat down in the desk chair and pushed the lid open and found yourself writing another message to your mysterious pen pal, Bucky.

_You: I’ve found myself looking at the people who pass by my window to see if they hold some kind of answer to the questions I have, but they just continue on not having a care in the world. It made me think if it’ll be like that for us again. I brought myself to fish out this old college literature book I had to study for hours and hours on end, and I thought about sharing this with you. It just seems to fit the world right now, from my eyes at least._

_Some say the world will end in fire,_

_Some say in ice._

_From what I’ve tasted of desire_

_I hold with those who favor fire._

_But if it had to perish twice,_

_I think I know enough of hate_

_To say that for destruction ice_

_Is also great_

_And would suffice._

You wondered if it sounded too cliche, or if it was too bleak. But it was one of your favorite poems, and now it made a little more sense in today’s world. Your world. You didn’t know if it would strike a chord with him like it did with you, but you sent it either way. It had been a few days since you heard from your chat buddy, and though he wasn’t online you knew he’d get it at some point. You heard your sisters arrival downstairs and braced yourself for her impromptu plan to get you out of the house.

Bucky Barnes was walking side by side his friend Sam Wilson, not really paying much attention to what he was saying to him. There was a chill in the air as the sun had lowered hours before. He didn’t know where Sam was leading him this late at night, but Bucky didn’t question it too much. His mind had drifted once again to the subject that Sam and him never really spoke about. To Steve.

He thought with time it was going to get easier to accept what Steve had chosen for himself. When he told him he was taking all the stupid with him, he didn’t mean to literally fucking take all of it. But how could he even really be mad at his best friend? Steve always wanted that life, and he always wanted it with Peggy. Maybe he was angry at Steve, or maybe he was angry that he never got to make the decision for himself.

“Are you listening to me?” Sam asked him randomly.

“Not really,” Bucky replied, which earned a grumble from the man on his side.

“At least you’re honest,” Sam replied, before stopping in his tracks which made Bucky turn to him, “this is it.”

“What-” Bucky turned to look at the bustling building Sam was motioning to, and raised a brow, “what makes you think this is the place to get intel?”

“Well if you were listening to me in the first place, you would know the lead is an upper east side socialite,” Sam patted his shoulder and started down the alleyway. Bucky grumbled a bit and followed in his steps towards a line that had formed for this nightclub-esque building. Sam cut the line and seemed to have a few words with the bouncer, who let them right in. It was going to be a long night.

The music that pumped through the building made his shoes vibrate, but he followed Sam’s lead through coat check and then around the corner which opened up to a large, vibrant party. To say Bucky was out of his comfort zone was an understatement. He was 10,000 miles out of his comfort zone. The looks he got from people made him cast his eyes down and back to Sam who was leading him further into this mess. It wasn’t until they were literally in the middle of the room did Sam turn to him and clap him on both of his shoulders.

“I’m going to go upstairs, you keep an eye out down here,” Sam had to nearly yell over the music, and with one final slap to his arm, he was gone. Bucky glared at his back as he walked away from him and looked around for a bar. He needed a drink, not that it would do anything for him, he just had to get away from this crowd. The bodies that jumped and knocked against him made him push his way through the crowd a little faster. Oh Sam was going to pay for this one day.

When he finally made it to the bar he gripped the wood edge and pressed himself into it. Resting his arms on the counter and stared at the back of the bartender, trying to see if he could gauge her attention.

“It’s no use,” a voice said next to him, which caused him to glance at his side to the person who was casually talking to him, “I’ve been trying to get her attention for 10 minutes.”

The woman who spoke to him had her eyes trained on the woman behind the counter, not looking his way once while she spoke. Though the lights flashed around the room, there was little to no emotion in her irises. So Bucky turned back to the bartender and waved his hand, which she seemed to catch from the corner of her eye. The bartender did a double take on him and Bucky hid the grin from his face when she headed over. He glanced at the woman beside him whose mouth fell open then quickly closed and watched as the bartender came over to take his order.

“I’ll take a rum and coke,” Bucky ordered and then nodded at the woman beside him, “and whatever she wants too.”

The woman glanced at him as he reached for a couple of bills from his pocket, and looked back at the bartender, “Make that three of those.”

The bartender nodded and turned away from them to make the drinks. Though silence fell over them, it was fine with Bucky. When the bartender came back with all three drinks she spaced them out evenly between them, and gave Bucky another sweet smile. Bucky forced one back, picking up one of the glasses as the woman on his side picked up one of the other ones. Bucky took a generous sip and watched as the woman completely downed one of the drinks and left the empty cup on the counter.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to be here either,” Bucky called out over the music. That when she finally met his gaze and shook her head.

“My sister insisted on dragging me out,” she said to him, and then picked up the other glass and nodded at him as she backed away, “thank you.”

Bucky offered a nod back but she was gone in the crowd not a moment later. He let out a little humph, and turned back to the crowd, his eyes going over the crowd. It was going to be a long night if Sam didn’t get what he needed soon.

* * *

By the time Bucky had gotten back to his apartment in Brooklyn, he was ready to wash the day's endeavours off of him. It was late, very late, and he could smell the alcohol and smoke on his clothes. He removed his coat and scarf and kicked his boots off and reached for his phone in his pocket. Though technology was still new to him, he was enjoying it a bit.

On his way to his bedroom he swiped through some notifications when his finger landed on an email notification. In the short amount the preview showed him, he could see there was a new message from you. He didn’t know why he frantically opened the webpage, but he did. He rested himself on the edge of his bed and read over the typed words in the palm of his hand, mumbling out loud the poem word for word. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he thought of what to say, and began to type his thoughts.

_LoneWolf17: I don’t think I’ve ever read something that spoke to me like that did. How we let our emotions control us even though they could destroy everything around us. So you studied literature way back when? You never told me._

And then he sent it. Though your picture wasn’t illuminated like you were online, he still had solace that you’d see it. It comforted him in a way that you weren’t online, maybe you were doing something for yourself, it seemed you were doing more than just “sulking around” as you liked to call it.

There wasn’t a lot he knew about you, just like you didn’t know a lot about him. But he let you call him Bucky, and you didn’t seem to realize who it was you were speaking with, and a part of him was grateful for that. As Bucky stripped from his clothing and got into his shower, his mind wandered to what he did know about you.

Your picture was one of the sample photos the website lets you pick from, a little penguin, so he of course didn’t know what you looked liked or sounded like, but you sounded smart and insightful. But you were so casual about it that it made him smile a lot when he read your messages. You were also careful and hurting, like him. He knew the story, but he felt he didn’t know _your_ story, if that makes sense. You were funny too, you made him laugh a lot. The times the two of you spent chatting together over the last week was almost like a breath of fresh air for him. He didn’t talk about Steve (minus his name of course) with anyone but you.

When he was done perusing his own thoughts and turned the water off, he reached for a towel to wrap himself in and stepped out and into the steam filled bathroom. He tied the towel carefully around his waist and used his hand to wipe away at the hazy mirror and took in his appearance. He still donned the long hair and beard, and frowned at himself in the mirror. He tried not to let the weight in his shoulder bring him down,and instead went to his bedroom to change.

Bucky grabbed his phone again as he settled onto the bed once more, pulling his shirt down his chest as he saw another new message from you. Now you were online, and he read over your message quickly.

_You: Welcome to the wonderful world of Robert Frost. It breaks my heart a bit that you felt the same way about the poem as I did, but then again I’m happy to see you have good taste in poetry._

Bucky chuckled at your sentiment, and scrolled down to the bottom of your message.

_You: I was towards the end of my program to receive my Phd in english lit studies, minor in creative writing. I mean they gave me the doctorate but it’s tucked away in these boxes. I don’t feel like I truly earned it, y’know?_

_LoneWolf17: Don’t let your heart break for me, doll, like you said - I’m just a man of many insights. And my insight is thinking you should still be proud of the work you put into that degree, especially if you were so close to the finish line before the blip. What did you need to do to complete it?”_

_You: I just had my research to finish._

_LoneWolf17: So then why don’t you do it now? For yourself?_

His question made you stop and think. Bucky seemed to have a way of doing that to you. As you thought about what he said, Bucky sat staring at his phone wondering if he may have said the wrong thing. But his tensions eased when you typed back

_You: I can think about it, man of many insights._

Bucky chuckled to himself, and looked at the time on the top of his phone. It was late, and he could feel the dryness in his eyes when your little bubbles started to move again, he eagerly awaited another message from you when your message popped up again.

 _You: I hate to end our conversation so soon, but I think I drank a little_ **_too_ ** _much tonight. I think it may be time for me to hit the hay._

_LoneWolf17: Is that why you’re so agreeable tonight? You should definitely get some rest._

_You: Haha, very funny._

_LoneWolf17: Goodnight (Y/N)._

_You: Goodnight, Bucky._

Bucky watched as your little picture went from glowing to dark, and felt relieved that you were taking yourself to bed. Bucky stood and set his phone down on the table by his bed and then got under the covers, using his flesh arm to rest under his head as he stared at the ceiling. Bucky found himself for the first time in months drifting off to sleep with no thought of his friend, instead he thought about the words of the poem you sent him.

Maybe signing up for that website was a good thing after all.


	2. Every Grief I Meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sksksk im so soft for Bucky it hurts. I have this whole head canon that he def would stand out in the snow to make sure someone is okay, bc he's that good of a guy. Hope you guys enjoy!

You were definitely not ready for what your sister was pushing you to do. After the night in the club and having to drink several rum and cokes to even feel comfortable enough to let loose, this was too far. It was too much too soon. It was like you were being pushed to your death.

Was it an exaggeration? Maybe. Probably. But that was besides the point! You weren’t ready to “venture out into the world” and “see what it has to offer.” You were fine in your little bubble for now. Your tiny, cramped, humble little bubble.

This time around since she deemed clubs “not your style” she had insisted on bringing you to her company Christmas party. She kept saying it was going to be fun and that you could meet people, but you didn’t want to. Her heart was in the right place, you just weren’t ready. You were antsy as you sat there in your delicates, staring at the screen before you. You were wondering about reaching out to Bucky again, it had been awhile since you heard from him.

Bucky was someone you looked forward to hearing from, as crazy as that sounded. Holding a stranger up on a pedestal like this was beyond you, but you couldn’t help it. He understood you in ways the people around you didn’t. He told you he was blipped as well, and when he returned he found out about his friend. He told you about how the two of them grew up and how he would have done everything he could to protect “that little punk” as he put it. Then as they were older his friend started to look out for him. He sounded alone in the world, and you did too, maybe that’s why you got along so well.

Bucky’s job often took him overseas, and there were times you wouldn’t hear from him in a few days. You understood, of course, but without his messages you found yourself wondering what to do with yourself. The fact you had grown so attached to someone you didn’t even know was part of the reason why you agreed to going tonight. It was just something to pass the time, right?

You rested your foot back on the ground and let your fingers hover over the keyboard. Your self restraint was being tested right now, you had been so good at not bombarding him with messages while he was away, but the heat under your skin was too much. So you began to type something for when he did return, even if you didn’t know when that was.

_ You: My sister has made it a point she thinks it’s time for me to see what the world has to offer. I don’t think I’m ready, but agreed anyway. Nothing terrible could happen at a Christmas party right? I hope your trip is going well, maybe you can tell me about it soon. _

And then you hit send. You looked over the message once more before you closed your laptop and stood to change into something for the party. Just a simple navy blue dress, one you had bought before the blip but never got a chance to wear. You were saving it, and now it would be put to use. It still hugged the parts you wanted it to and ended just above your knee, and you chose a pair of black heels to go with it. When you finished you looked at yourself in the mirror and froze at the sight before you.

You haven’t seen this person in months now. Put together, at least. Or forcing yourself to look put together. You caught yourself biting your lip when the pounding from downstairs broke you from your thoughts. As you heard your sister’s voice from the front door you braced yourself for whatever the night was going to throw at you and grabbed a warm trench coat to cover yourself with, and headed on for tonight’s events.

Bucky Barnes found himself once again walking alongside Sam Wilson. Snow was beginning to fall around the city as the holiday season neared. Lights decorated the windows they passed by and people scurried past in excitement. He wondered what it would be like to be excited for that again.

“I can’t believe we haven’t been able to track down Zemo yet,” Sam said beside him, letting some people split them before returning to his side. “Every lead just ends to nowhere.”

“Well it’s not like he was just going to be waiting for us out in the open with a sign saying “Here I am guys.” Bucky replied, and ignored the glare from his partner.

“I wasn’t saying that,” Sam replied, and Bucky shook his head. “We should have gotten some kind of ground though.”

“Maybe,” Bucky said. “Maybe we’re following the wrong leads.”

Sam shuffled to a stop outside Bucky’s building, and motioned towards it, “Then why don’t you run point on this from now on and I’ll sit and play with my phone instead.”

“Shove off, Sam,” Bucky said, starting up the stairs while Sam laughed at.

“I’ll find out what’s going on some day!”

Bucky let the apartment building door shut behind him, and thankfully Sam with it, and headed up the couple flights of stairs to his apartment. He ruffled his pulled back hair and it was dewy to the touch because of the snow. He fumbled with his keys a bit as he entered the same old apartment, and did the same old thing. He peeled his jacket off, tossed his keys into a bowl on a table, and practically tossed his scarf down on the counter. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and smiled at the notification on his screen.

He settled himself into the fluffy couch in the living room and grabbed a pillow to rest his arm on while he read your message. It had been a few weeks since he had last spoken to you, and seeing your screen name again made him smile for once. He began to type his message back, as fast as his fingers could allow.

_ LoneWolf17: I’m glad to hear you’re getting out, doll. Although it’s not something I’m used to I don’t think anything too crazy happens at Christmas parties. The trip was a bust, but you were right about the croissants; they just aren’t the same here. _

You shuffled your coat off and your sister hung it amongst the rest. The house you were in now was cutely decorated, and rang with voices and music. It was like someone vomited Christmas decor around the place, but you weren’t mad about it. To each their own, right? Your sister grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the kitchen, where drinks were being poured. You groaned.

“Oh don’t be a sour pus,” she commented, pouring you something red into a plastic cup, and shoved it your way. “Come on, you know you want to.”

“Wanting to and knowing better are separate concepts that I don’t think you’ve grasped yet,” you mumbled, which only earned you daggers. You sighed and took the cup anyway, and watched as she left you alone to greet people.

You felt awkward and out of place. You had to push your way through groups of people until you returned to the hallway that faced the front door and separated the kitchen from the living room. You sipped on the drink in your hand and nearly gagged at the amount of alcohol spike in it. What was this, high school? You mumbled to yourself and took another sip as the front door opened and closed, letting in another chilly bit of air.

As you sipped you glanced down the hallway and nearly spit your drink out. Those around you questioned your sudden coughing spell but paid you no attention. You cleared your throat as you looked back down the hallway and met the stare of none other than the very last person you thought you would see tonight. Or ever. The  _ last  _ person who would ever want to see.

Derek stared at you past the other people who lined the hallway. His wife had yet to notice, but he held your gaze and you were suddenly very  _ very  _ uncomfortable. When his wife followed his gaze and her eyes landed on you too, you forced yourself to look away, and downed the last of the drink in the cup. You also disappeared and headed straight to your sister and tugged on her arm.

“What-”

“What the fuck!” you whisper yelled. “You didn’t think to tell me that Derek was going to be here?”

She looked around and her eyes landed on the pair for only a moment, “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, oh fuck,” you mumbled. “I can’t-”

“I didn’t realize he married Sandy!” She tried to explain but you shook your head.

“I can’t.. I can’t stay, I'm sorry.” You gave her the empty cup and made your way back to the front door. You ignored the looks you were getting and nearly ripped your coat off the hook and pulled the door open before you even had your arms through the fabric. The cold winter air hit you all at once, and you shut the door behind you.

You desperately reached into your pocket for your phone to call a taxi, uber, lyft, anything you could get ahold of. Your hot breath was evident in the air as you glanced over the notification you have normally been excited to see and seeked those apps. You heard the door open and close behind you once more and your eyes shot up to stare at the street as someone made their way next to you. God, please, just strike you down now.

“What are you doing here,” Derek quietly asked. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt a burn at the back of your throat.

“My sister works with your wife apparently,” you whispered and opened your eyes to look at him. “I-I didn’t know.”

He didn’t say anything at first, only looked you over with some kind of look on his face, “You shouldn’t be here either way.”

“Excuse me?” You asked, not able to hold back the shock in your tone.

“Oh come on (Y/N), this is our neighborhood,” Derek motioned around him. “She. . She can’t handle seeing you. Not here. It makes her uncomfortable.”

You gaped a bit at him, and felt the sting of tears in your eyes, “It makes her uncomfortable, or you?”

He didn’t answer. He casted his look down to the ground and mumbled, “You should go.”

He turned back to the door to the party and didn’t look back at you. The door opened and closed you off from that world. His world. You stared at it and could hear the laughter and commotion inside while you stood there alone in the cold. A tear slid down your cheek and it made you nearly rush down the street.

It was like your brain and feet were on autopilot. You were sure where you were until you practically threw yourself into a booth of a diner you used to come to. When it was “your” neighborhood. Even the thought of what he said made your eyes burn again. A waitress started over to you, though you stared blankly at the other side of the booth.

“Coffee?” She asked, and all you could offer was a nod of your head. She set a mug down in front of you and poured a hefty amount of liquid caffeine in it. You mumbled a thanks and pulled your phone from your pocket, which seemed to let her know to just leave you alone.

You couldn’t help the few tears that still slid down your cheeks, and you opened the message you saw earlier. Your lip trembled as you read over your pen pal’s words, and couldn’t help the laugh you let out.

Bucky heard his phone vibrate on the coffee table, and he carefully closed the book he was reading to grab it. When he saw your screen name under the email notification he unlocked the phone quickly. His normal excitement soon faded as he read your message, mumbling some words quietly.

_ You: We were both wrong about Christmas parties. It was too soon. The only thing I can think to describe it would be this: _

_ I measure every Grief I meet _

_ With narrow, probing, eyes –  _

_ I wonder if It weighs like Mine –  _

_ Or has an Easier size. _

_ I wonder if They bore it long –  _

_ Or did it just begin –  _

_ I could not tell the Date of Mine –  _

_ It feels so old a pain –  _

_ I wonder if it hurts to live –  _

_ And if They have to try –  _

_ And whether – could They choose between –  _

_ It would not be – to die – _

Bucky blinked at the lines before him. He didn’t know what to say to that. Something fucked must have happened, and he didn’t know how to respond to the message. His finger hovered over the keyboard before clicking on your profile. It showed you were online, but he stared at the other options before him before making up his mind and clicking on a button and his screen turning dark.

You were swirling the coffee in the mug around when your phone started to incessantly vibrate on the table. You set the mug down and picked up your phone, a small sniffle escaping you. You stared down at the unknown number and let it virate a few more times before you hit the answer button. You slowly lifted the phone up to your ear and wrapped your other hand around the mug.

“Hello..?” You answered, your voice was quiet as you listened to the silence on the other end. You lifted the mug up to your lips and took a sip.

“(Y/N)?” A deep male voice questioned on the other end. You licked your lips a bit, and set the mug back down.

“Yes.. Who’s this?” You asked, taking another sip of the coffee.

“It’s uh.. It’s Bucky.”

You spit the hot drink out and wiped your mouth from the mess you just made. “Shit-” you mumbled feeling the hot liquid run down your neck.

“Is everything okay?” Bucky asked you, and you desperately wished you hadn’t spit on yourself.

“Yeah! No yeah I’m great!” You exclaimed, and tried your best to dab away the coffee on you.

“Did you just spit on yourself?” He asked. You slowed your rubbing and closed your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“I was hoping you didn’t hear that,” you mumbled into the phone.

“I could practically feel it,” he replied. You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips, and Bucky smiled to himself on the other end. “Are you okay?”

You scoffed to yourself, resting your elbows on the table. “No. I don’t know.”

“What happened at the party?” He asked. His concern made the tears swell behind your eyes again, though you tried to force them back down.

“He was there,” you mumbled, trying your hardest not to let him hear the sniffle that came as you breathed. “His wife works with my sister, apparently. . He said my presence makes her uncomfortable, and I shouldn’t come around this part anymore.”

Bucky was silent as you spoke, but when he heard the sniffling he silently moved to his jacket, throwing it on once more, “What part is he talking about?”

“Brooklyn Heights,” you said and a chuckle escaped you. “I’ve never seen someone look at me with such pity before.”

“He’s an ass,” Bucky said. You shrugged your shoulders to yourself and glanced out the window on your side. “Where are you right now?”

“This place called Heights Cafe,” you glanced around while Bucky on the other end nodded to himself, he knew exactly where that was. “I used to love it, y’know when it was my part of town.”

Bucky started down the street to cross to Joralemon, then around the corner to Hicks and he was just a few blocks from the cafe. He made sure you couldn’t hear his breathing, so he kept his phone from his mouth, but kept you talking. “I know it’s like calling the kettle black, but you shouldn’t take what he says seriously, doll. He doesn’t own that part of town.”

You smiled at the term you had become familiar with through your chats. It felt different hearing him say it into your ear. The way he drawled it out, how heavy yet soft his voice sounded. You were focused so much on him you hadn’t even felt the urge to cry anymore.

“I know you’re right, Bucky, but. . I don’t know. Just hearing it from him I guess is what made it hurt so much.”

He was only a block away and the cafe was coming into view. Bucky slowed his steps as he neared and looked through the window at the people inside. There were only a few who sat alone, and a couple on the phone, so he pressed himself against a wall and watched for you to speak again.

“Just say the word and I’ll take care of it, doll.”

There was a smile and Bucky fixed his eyes on the woman inside. He felt his gaze soften at the sight. It was the same woman he encountered at that club all those nights ago. He watched as you tipped the mug in your hand around like you were fixated on it, and he smiled at the sight of you shaking your head at his words.

“I don’t think it’ll be necessary, but thank you,” you said. Bucky laughed a bit and it only made you smile more. Even from a distance it seemed to have him fixated on you.

“You deserve better than that,” he said. Bucky watched as your shoulders relaxed with his words, though he could see even from afar your eyes cast downwards. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

You closed your eyes and sighed quietly, but he still heard it, “You’re too sweet-”

“I mean it,” Bucky cut you off. “I mean every word doll. And if you need me to. . I can be there.”

The offer was dangerous, but he needed you to hear it. If he went inside and you knew who he was, it could go south. What if you knew about him? What if it dragged you into his life?.. Was that such a bad thing if you were? He could feel his heart pound in his chest as he watched you think his words over.

“Oh gosh Bucky, no no I’m sorry. You just got back from your trip, you must be exhausted-”

“I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t mean it, doll.” He said. He watched you smile again, and he couldn;t help but smile too.

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be okay,” he watched as you dropped a few bills down on the table and stood from the booth. He leaned against the wall to hide the arm that held the phone to his ear as you exited the cafe to move near the street. “I should be going home anyways, not wallowing in my self pity with coffee.”

“Not wallowing, you were spitting up your coffee.”

You laughed, probably the first non sarcastic chuckle or laugh he had heard from you tonight. And it made him smile as he watched you hail a taxi. He straightened himself a bit as he watched one pull over, and you pulled open the door.

“Thank you,” you said to him. “Hearing your voice was. . It was nice.”

“Anytime, doll.” It came out in almost a whisper and he watched you smile again. You both muttered goodbyes and he watched as you climbed into the taxi and the lights began to take you away. Bucky found himself transfixed on the lights until they became smaller and smaller in the distance, and he realized that he may be in over his head.

But for now that didn’t matter to him. The only thing he could seem to think about was your damn smile, and your laugh in his ear.


	3. I Carry It With Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof sorry for the wait on this, but there's some fun bucky/sam moments (my two doofuses as i will be calling them) and some.... developments ;3

The quiet humming sound filtered from the small white bathroom and filled the halls of the rather empty apartment. There in the white porcelain bathroom hair flowed down through the air and into the sink, until the skin beneath was stubbled and clear. The humming sound finally came to a stop, leaving a silence in the air that was quite normal for this empty space. Bucky wiped his face clean with a warm moist washcloth and looked up to meet his own gaze in the mirror. He couldn’t help but run his hand over the softer shaven hair on his face, or the now short hair on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw himself like this.

There was a soft ping that rang from the back of his jeans, and Bucky reached behind him to grab his phone. He swiped open the device and read the message from Sam, and rolled his eyes at the joking message before shoving the phone back into his pocket. He took special care in washing the hair down the sink and tossed the moist washcloth into the hamper before he walked into the hallway and his phone started to ring insistently. Bucky rolled his eyes, and pulled the phone from his back pocket, and put it up to his ear.

“What do you want, Sam?” He asked, making his way down the hallway to his room.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Sam’s voice rang in his ear, but Bucky just sighed. “C’mon man, it’s New Years Eve.”

“I’m not interested in whatever you have planned, Sam,” Bucky told him. He could practically hear the eye roll on the other end of the line.

“Look man, you gotta come out and readjust to the world,” Sam started to explain while Bucky dug around his drawer for a shirt. “You won’t come to group meetings, you won’t go and see a professional, so why not just go out with me tonight? Nothing too big, let’s just go get some drinks and chill for a bit. Who knows when we’ll get another chance like this.”

Bucky gripped a black long sleeved shirt in his fist and fell silent after Sam spoke. He could hear the light chatters of someone on the other end, and Bucky sighed.

“Fine.” He caved in, and could tell his friend was grinning ear to ear on the other end. “But I swear to God, Sam, if I have to carry your drunk ass home-”

“That was one time!” Sam called out on the other end.

“Yeah, one time too many pal,” Bucky rolled his eyes as he spoke. “Just tell me where to meet you.”

“I’ll hit you up later,” Sam ended, and the beeping of the line closed the call. Bucky placed the phone on the dresser and pulled the black shirt over his body. He instinctively rubbed a hand over his shorter hair when another vibration came through on his phone, and he smiled at this notification in particular.

Now that Bucky could put a face to the words he read everyday, and the voice and laugh that still echoed in his mind, he knew he was in over his head. There was no question about it now. The more time he spent in the city the more he looked for you amongst the crowds. Sam had started to take notice when he’d pass by the cafe you populated days earlier and Bucky would slow his stroll to steal a look inside. He then stole his phone and found your contact information. Sooner or later, Bucky would get him back for that. For everything.

After the phone call, it became easier to text one another instead of using the website. But one thing he hadn’t done since that night was call you again. In all honesty, Bucky didn’t know if he would be able to handle hearing that sweet laced voice once more without caving and offering again to meet. Meet for real that is, not just watch you from across the street like.. Well like a spy.

So when your name came up in his texts, he was quick to open the message and read over your words anxiously.

_ You: NYE always brings out the most obnoxious people sometimes! It’s barely 10 and everything has booze in it. _

Bucky chuckled at your words. This was his first New Years since his demise all those years ago. Truthfully, you were right. The parties back in his day were nothing compared to now. The pomp and circumstance was one of the main reasons he did not want Sam to drag him into public tonight. Even the couple of days leading up to now were too much for him. Bucky pressed the text box and began to type away.

_ Bucky: I don’t even want to imagine what tonight is going to be like, probably 10x as crazy _

_ You: Wait a second hold on, you’ve never seen the ball drop in Times Square? _

Bucky chortled to himself as he eased himself onto the edge of his bed.

_ Bucky: Can’t say I have doll, there’s a first for everything right? _

_ You: Can’t wait to see your reaction haha! _

Though you were just joking with him, Bucky frowned at the idea. He hoped to God Sam didn’t have any tricks up his sleeve tonight - though he had yet to see it happen live, he did look up clips from the previous years. The crowds were massive, and what was everyone doing kissing when the clock hit zero?

_ Bucky: Do you have plans tonight? _

_ You: My sister is dragging me out again somewhere, but it’s top secret apparently. _

_ Bucky: Hopefully in a part of town you’re allowed in. _

_ You: You have jokes today I see. _

_ Bucky: Has it made you smile yet? _

A dangerous question. Bucky eagerly watched the three dots that hopped as you typed back a reply.

_ You: Yes, but that’s besides the point! _

_ Bucky: Nope that’s all I needed to know, doll. _

_ You: Yeah yeah whatever, jokester. Doing anything fun tonight? _

_ Bucky: Just drinks with a buddy of mine. _

_ You: Just two old men having a night out on the town huh? _

_ Bucky: Look who has jokes now! _

_ You: Take what you dish, old man. _

Bucky chuckled to himself. You had started to resort to calling him old man regardless of your knowledge of him. Of course it was all in a joking manner, but you chalked it up to his use of the word doll. You said it sounded like something used in the 50’s (it probably was, but he wouldn’t know), and he had asked if it made you uncomfortable at all. Based off the look on your face the night he called and dropped the word a few times, he hoped the answer was no. And you reassured him of that in a message to answer his question.

_ Bucky: Try not to spit on yourself tonight. _

_ You: You’ll never let me live that down, will you? _

_ Bucky: Not a chance, doll. _

The day carried on as most of his normally did. Alone in his apartment, some tunes filled the empty rooms in a low hum, and he either read, wrote in his journal, or texted back to you. This was how he preferred to spend his days. No missions, no life or death situations, no alien invasions, just the sound jazz in the background and.. You.

So this? This was not what Bucky wanted to do.

When Sam opened up the door to the bar, Bucky nearly choked him then and there. People adorning commemorative hats flocked everywhere, and they all greeted Sam like they knew him. Sam shook hands, slapped people over the shoulder, and smiled at a couple of dames.

Bucky was going to murder this man one day.

“Sam,” he warned when he finally got his companion on his own. “What the fuck is this?”

“I’m sorry I lured you here under false pretenses, but the group I’m with wanted to do something together,” Sam explained as he was handed two beers from the bartender. “Come on, man.. Just have a couple drinks with me, and if you want to leave - you can.”

Sam offered Bucky the bottle of alcohol and Bucky shook his head while he retrieved it. “I’m never trusting you again, I hope you know that.”

“I’m shocked and upset, truly,” Sam said and rolled his eyes. Bucky grumbled and rested on a barstool next to his disgraceful friend.

“So tell me,” Sam took a sip of his beer and pursed his lips and tossed a glance Bucky’s way. “When are you planning on meeting this girl? Sorry,  _ officially  _ meeting this girl?”

“Don’t think I ever will,” he answered honestly. Bucky took a swig from the bottle in his hand, even though he knew it wasn’t going to do much. “We’re in a dangerous line of work, Sam.”

Sam shook his head and motioned over to him. “That’s just an excuse.”

“No, it’s a fact,” Bucky replied. “We’re hunting the man who killed the King of Wakanda, you’re telling me that isn’t dangerous?”

“I never said that,” Sam replied and took a sip from the beer in his hands. “I said it’s an excuse. Barton has made it work, Stark did, God rest his soul. You’re obviously smitten with her.”

“Smitten,” Bucky lulled over the world. “And you call me old fashion.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. “That’s what I get for hanging out with two old geezers for the last few years.”

The sudden mention, minus the name, of the old shared friend made silence fall between them. Sam was working towards forgiveness, Bucky wasn’t to that point yet. He hadn’t spoken his name, nor gone to see him since those days by the lake after Tony’s funeral. Sam knew he soured the mood by the look on Bucky's face, and before he could say something, Bucky was up out of his seat.

“Hey, wait-”

“It’s fine,” Bucky said and tossed a bill down on the bar. “This just isn’t my scene.”

Bucky beelined for the exit. He was nearly out, nearly to freedom when an unknowing body backed up into his path of travel and he knocked right into them. He was quick to catch them from hitting the ground, hands gripping their shoulders, and positioning them back upright. He mumbled apologies as the other steadied themselves with his arms, and his jaw dropped open a bit.

No fucking way was this his luck.

“Geez, I’m sorry,” your familiar silky voice said over the music and chatter. Bucky released his grip on your arms and swallowed the lump in his throat when you looked up to meet his gaze. Your eyebrow quirked up a bit as you seemed to recognize his face and Bucky cleared his throat.

“It’s no problem,” he reassured you. God, were his hands sweating?

“I remember you,” you offered him a smile and Bucky felt frozen in place. “From that club, you got me a couple of drinks.”

“Right,” he nodded and swallowed another lump in his throat. “Rum and Coke.”

“Well that was your choice,” you joked and he finally cracked a smile. “What’s your name?”

“Sam,” he said a little too quickly. He nodded at himself. Fuck. “My name’s Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam,” you offered your hand.

Bucky hesitated for a moment before he gently enveloped your hand with his gloved metal one. “And what should I call you?”

“(Y/N),” you replied and he smiled.

“I like it,” he said before he could stop himself. You smiled and he released your hand. Shit shit shit that was too much-

“Would you like to buy me a drink?” You asked and Bucky blinked a couple times before him. You were flirting with him. He couldn’t help but grin and nod back towards the bar behind him.

“I would like nothing more,” he said. He motioned his hand towards the bar and you moved around him to it. To his dismay, you sat a couple seats away from Sam. Bucky leaned his side against the bar with his back to his previous companion and hoped to God he wasn’t going to look this way. You smiled sweetly at the bartender and ordered something bubbly, and Bucky gave a knowing nod for another beer.

“So Sam,” you said over the music. Bucky could practically feel Sam’s eyes turn and stare at the back of his head, and he wanted nothing more than to hit the smug look off his face. And when Sam realized who and what was going on, he could hear the idiot stifle back laughs. “Are you a part of this.. Thing?”

“The group?” Bucky asked. He heard Sam slam his beer down in a frenzy from laughter and he clenched his jaw. He was going to kill him. He really was. He could just turn around and do it right here, right now. “No, no I’m not a part of it.. Are you?”

You turned a bit over your shoulder, and pointed at your sister who was trying to pry a karaoke mic from another person. “That trainwreck over there is trying to get me to join.”

The bartender was back with the drinks and you thanked him with your pretty smile again. Bucky lifted his beer up and shifted his body so he could send a glare at Sam, who looked like he was going to burst at any moment. With a curled fist, Bucky punched his side, and you didn’t even notice. Sam coughed frantically and you glanced over with a concerned look. Bucky set his beer down and placed a firm solid hand on Sam’s shoulder.

“Woah there man, you okay?” Bucky asked as he neared. Once he was close enough to Sam’s ear he whispered. “Go the fuck away, Sam.”

“Fuck you, Bucky,” Sam said back just as low. Bucky retracted himself back to your side and Sam stood, offered a small nod to the both of you and retreated with his drink. Bucky finally eased himself onto a seat beside you while you watched Sam wander away.

“Is he okay?” You asked and Bucky nodded.

“Yeah, poor guy just can’t hold his alcohol.” Bucky smiled at his own statement and took another swig from his drink. You sipped at your drink, and he could tell from the corner of his eye you were staring at him. Bucky placed his drink down and glanced over at you and you smiled.

“So tell me, Sam,” you started and Bucky turned a bit so he could face you better and just take you in. “Not to be pushy or anything.”

“Push all you want,” he reassured you. He could’ve sworn he saw a hint of rosiness creek over your cheeks.

“What are you doing here if you aren’t a part of this group?”

Bucky had to say his next words very carefully. He knew if he gave too much away you may be able to connect the dots. Your eyes looked his face over as he pondered his thought and he nodded a bit.

“I was dusted, and my pal thinks I should join.. But I don’t think I’m ready.”

“Ah, I see,” you said and Bucky watched as you sipped your drink.

“What about you?” He asked and you glanced over at him as you sipped away. “Gonna listen to your friend and give this a try?”

You let out a little uh uh as you swallowed, and rested your elbows on the bar. “I don’t think it’s for me.”

“Why do you say that?” Bucky asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I think I’m doing okay on my own,” you admit to him.

You had a small smile on your face. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if you thought about him at that moment. But he nodded and glanced up at the tv that hung on the wall. Only a few minutes to midnight. You followed his gaze to the tv and hummed a bit.

“So Sam, are you planning on kissing anyone when the ball drops?” You asked.

Bucky blinked at your question. You were looking at him with curious eyes, and he felt something tingle in his chest. But Bucky fought his thoughts and shook his head.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he diverted your question and you let out another quiet hmm. You opened your mouth to say something but a hand grabbed onto your arm, and Bucky finally saw your sister up close and personal.

“They won’t let me sing,” she complained and you smiled at Bucky before turning to your sister.

“Good, you’re terrible,” you told her and she rolled her eyes and finally landed her gaze upon Bucky.

“Who is this?” She asked and gave him a nice smile. Bucky could tell you fought back a laugh and stood from your place, wrapping an arm around your sister.

“That’s Sam,” you told her. “And you’re drunk.”

“No just a little bit,” she said and winked at Bucky. He only offered a smile before his eyes locked with yours. “Come on, I wanna be right in the middle when the ball drops.”

“Okay pushover,” you agreed and your sister bounced back to the crowd. You finished your drink and turned to face him and offered Bucky a smile.

“Thank you,” you placed your hand on his and gave it a squeeze. Bucky felt his heart race under his chest and gave you a small nod as you walked away, taking his breath with you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, not until his worst fears came true. Sam was back at his side.

“So that’s her, huh?” Sam asked as he pulled out his wallet to close his tab. Bucky grumbled and pulled his wallet out as well.

“Yeah.. That’s her,” Bucky admitted. Sam glanced over his shoulder and shrugged a bit.

“She’s cute man, I don’t know why you stole my name.”

“Please just for the love of God drop it,” Bucky nearly pleaded as he put a couple bills down for the bartender in payment and a tip.

“Look,” Sam started as he turned to face Bucky. “I get you want to protect her from this life.. But from what I can tell from the messages, and the flirting, she’s into you.”

Over the tv the sounds of that final countdown started. The crowd in the room began to chant along as well and both men glanced at the tv. Sam turned back to head over to the crowd and looked Bucky over one more time.

“All I’m saying is, don’t be afraid to make the move. We both know how that worked out for Steve.”

Sam wandered off to the group and Bucky stared at the wooden bar before him. The voices that echoed behind him started to count down louder as Bucky got lost in his thoughts.

_ 20! 19! 18! 17! 16! _

As much as it physically pained him to admit, Sam was right. But he couldn’t take his word for it if you were “into him” or not. Sam was the absolute worst judge on women. Ladies. Dames-- God damn it that didn’t matter right now!

_ 15! 14! 13! 12! 11! _

Just one test. One test and he would know for sure if he would reveal himself to you. If you felt the same way about him. This was his chance to see if what your eyes showed him tonight, and that night outside the cafe were what he was looking for.

_ 10! 9! 8! 7! 6! _

Bucky stood up from his chair and downed the remaining liquor in the bottle, even if it didn’t aid him, before he sauntered towards the crowd. He could easily pick you out amongst the other bodies, and had to push through a couple people to get there on time.

_ 5! 4! 3! 2! 1! _

Just as the people around started to yell out the fateful words ‘Happy New Year’ Buky grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you into him. His hands enveloped your face and your expression went from shock to acknowledgment when your eyes met his. In one fluid motion, he leaned down to catch your lips with his.

Your lips didn’t move against his, and Bucky felt defeated. After a couple quick seconds he pulled away and opened his eyes once more to see you staring at him. You looked confused, but he couldn’t tell if you were upset or not. Bucky retracted his hands from your face while others around kissed one another. You held your gaze with him and Bucky was going to just forget this ever happened. Just forget you.

He was pulled back into the moment when you suddenly placed your hand on the nape of his neck, and ran your fingers into the edges of his hair. Bucky was quick to grab a hold of your hips and lean back down to kiss you once more. This time, you moved in sync with him. It was a slow and passionate kiss as you pressed yourself into his body. Your lips parted for him and Bucky eagerly snuck his tongue into your mouth, and you relaxed against him. The almost sloppy wet kisses made his head buzz as he tasted the sweet bubbly drink you consumed with him, and felt your fingers scratch his scalp. His fingers dug into your hips to relieve the pressure he felt in him, and as the cheering died down, you both finally released one another.

Bucky’s lips hovered over yours as your hot breaths mixed with one another. Your skin did indeed look rosy, and the beautiful color in your eyes looked a little darker. You slowly untangled your fingers from his hair, and Bucky took his hands off your hips. He hated to end it like this, but your sister was quick to grab your hand and insist on her tiredness, and pulled you with her to the exit. Bucky didn’t look away as you were pulled out into the snowy night, and he smiled to himself like an idiot.

By the time he got home he had felt his phone vibrate a couple times. As he climbed the stairs to his apartment he ignored Sam’s attempt at a joke on Bucky’s behalf, and fumbled with his keys as he read your message over.

_ You: Happy New Years, Bucky! Have a good night? Thought about this tonight after all the festivities: _

_ Somewhere there is a place where I belong _

_ Where an orchestra plays my favourite song _

_ Butterflies gather and birds fly high _

_ A beautiful place in a sun-lit sky _

_ I wake and I wonder the land of the free _

_ Where souls dance happy and the shore meets the sea _

_ Mermaids chat and whisper the day _

_ And Gods of hope are not far away _

_ The place where I belong sits right in my hand _

_ It lies in oceans blue and drifts of hot sand _

_ I carry it with me, for my eyes to see _

_ That the place I belong, sits within me _

Bucky tossed his keys into the bowl, took his jacket off as usual, and ran his hand through his hair at the thought of tonight. He smiled as he typed back a response.

_ Bucky: Happy New Years, doll. I did have a good night actually. I’m guessing you had a good night with your sister? _

When he didn’t get an immediate reply, Bucky thought he just missed you. He made his way to the bathroom and started to strip rom his clothes when his phone vibrated on the porcelain sink, and he all but rushed to read your message with a stupid grin on his face.

_ You: It was better than I expected :) _


	4. Blossom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry y'all, this one is a tad bit shorter :3 but anivob'fnban bucky has THE WORST luck lmao but it's so funny

The thought of living another day in your childhood bedroom, under the watchful eyes of not only your parents but the nagging that came from your sister was what finally pushed you to make changes in your life. It could have also been the spur of the moment feeling that overcame you with the whole New Year feeling that filled the air. But one thing was for sure, you were moving back to Brooklyn, and no one was going to stop you (that included Derek, screw that whole “not your part of town” shit.)

Your parents were supportive of the idea, and you knew they were excited for you to start rebuilding your life (and maybe get that room back). You searched high and low for something you could afford in  _ your  _ favorite neighborhood, and stumbled upon the perfect place. Red toned bricks that even led into the front room that was adorned with mailboxes, the apartment itself was lined with white walls and big beautiful windows, and grey kitchen cabinets adorned the kitchen. You fell in love instantly. The character and the short walk to your favorite cafe were all ringing in your head in perfect little yes’s, and you applied for it right away.

Before Bucky had left on a new trip you had told him all about your idea. Though you hadn’t found the place yet, he was just as happy and supportive of this move for you. So when the approval came through about a week after he left (and his phone was turned off) you excitedly sent him a text message for when he did return home. You typed so fast you wondered if your fingers were going to fly off, but you just couldn’t help but bounce around after you got the news.

_ You: I found the perfect place! I move in next week, Buck :) Wish you were here so we could celebrate properly. _

You had started to wonder about when you would get to meet this mysterious man you had grown so attached to. Bucky crossed your mind nearly everyday in the hopes of sharing something with him, whether that was a thought or maybe something that made you laugh. But then you remembered that he wasn’t here at the moment, and kept the thought to yourself. So when the next week rolled around and you traveled into the city behind your father who had your things in his truck, you were eager to settle into this new place, and your new life, and thought about when you would get to share that with him.

Bucky shifted a bit in the passenger seat of Sam’s car, trying to pull his phone from his bag that laid on his feet. He couldn’t help but grumble, and Sam tossed a glance his way, just to watch the super soldier struggle against the seatbelt and he stifled back a laugh. Once Bucky was finally able to retrieve what he was looking for, he shot a glare at Sam.

“Shut up, Sam,” Bucky warned. Sam only laughed.

“Why are you always so hostile after these missions?”

“Because you’re annoying,” Bucky stated. He powered on his phone and lightly tapped it against his hand as it booted up.

“You have the nerve to call me annoying when all you do is sit there on that damn phone and mumble to yourself?” Sam asked. Bucky glared at him again and Sam nodded. “I rest my case.”

“You and your case can shove it,” Bucky said as his phone came to life. He swiped through his messages in search of any from you, and smiled to himself when there were a couple waiting for him. Sam shook his head as he came to a stop outside Bucky’s building, and shifted into park. Bucky on the other hand was too distracted to notice his surroundings, which only made Sam sigh.

“You have it  _ bad _ ,” he said. Bucky looked up from his screen and glared at Sam. “Ever since New Years you’ve been like a lovesick puppy.”

“Goodbye, Sam,” Bucky said as he pushed open his door. Bucky stepped out of the car and grabbed his bag, but stopped and rested his arm on the roof to peer inside. “I think I should take the lead on the next mission, your sources suck.”

“Close my fucking door,” Sam said. Bucky grinned and slammed the door closed and watched as Sam pulled off down the road. He shook his head and climbed up the stairs that led to his building, and used his key to get inside. When he entered he made sure to stop and get his mail, and shuffled through it as he climbed the stairs up to his apartment. One flight, then the second, he shuffled through the envelopes before he made it to his floor, and Bucky being Bucky, didn’t see the person backing out of their apartment until he knocked into them.

“Shit, sorry,” he said. He wasn’t used to someone being in this particular apartment, they must have been moving in. Bucky though froze in his place when his eyes landed upon none other than..

Well.. You.

When you recognized him, your face lit up a bit. But Bucky was sure he broke out in an immediate sweat. Well, maybe not, but it suddenly felt  _ very  _ hot in here.

“Sam,” you greeted. That was right, he used fucking  _ Sam’s  _ name that night. Bucky forced a smile, and peered down at the box you were holding.

“Do you, uh, need help with that?” He asked. You smiled and nodded a bit at him. Bucky dropped his bag down almost immediately which earned a chuckle from you, and he took the box from your arms. You stepped to the side and Bucky entered your new apartment, walking through the grey painted kitchen into the main room. He came to a stop amongst piles of boxes, and set the box on top of another, when another man exited your bedroom.

Holy shit, your  _ dad _ .

In other circumstances this would have been fine. If you knew who he was, if he was properly courting you, this would be totally fine. But this, with you thinking he was a man named Sam, was not how he wanted to meet your father. Under a lie. But Bucky put on the best face he could, a smile and wiped his hands on his pants as your dad came into the room. 

“Is that everything?” He asked, and you passed Bucky and gave him a nod. His attention then went to Bucky, and he took a step forward. “Who’s this?”

“That’s Sam, he’s a new neighbor of mine,” you answered. Your father gave him a nod, and then offered his hand for Bucky to shake. Carefully, with his covered metal hand, he shook your father's hand firmly, but not too hard. When he earned a nod from your father he inwardly sighed, and released his hand.

“Do you want me to stay and help you unpack this?” Your father asked. Bucky stole a glance towards the front door which was still wide open, and looked over the locks quickly that adjourned the door. He turned his attention back to the scene before him when you had laughed a bit.

“No no of course not, I can handle it from here,” you told him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and your father rubbed your shoulder, and said something he couldn’t quite hear. Bucky nodded a goodbye as your father passed him and out the door, pausing to get one last look inside. He disappeared around the corner and Bucky’s gaze shifted back to you, who shuffled through a box and he smiled a bit to himself as you pulled out a book.

“Y’know I never thought I’d see you again after that night,” you had said. You glanced his way and Bucky laughed a bit.

“Are you glad you were wrong?” He asked. His confidence shocked him a bit, but he couldn’t help it. Not right now. You smiled a bit and moved around a couple boxes to move near him.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted. Bucky nodded to himself, and when you were near enough he swore he felt his heart flutter. He swallowed the lump in his throat. There goes all that confidence.

“Well, welcome to the building,” he said, his voice low. You smiled up at him, your eyes shining even past your long lashes, and he fought the urge to sweep you up.

“Thanks, Sam,” you answered. You had followed him to the door, and Bucky picked up his bag, and you motioned to him. “Did you just get back from a trip?”

Bucky looked down at the bag in his hand and he cleared his throat. “Ah yeah, I did.”

You nodded and let out a soft hmm, and rested your hand on your door. “Well I won’t keep you from resting.”

Bucky smiled that devilish smile of his and you averted your gaze quickly to the floor. He whispered a goodbye and you did too and he listened, as he walked to his own apartment deeper into the building, to you close and (thankfully) lock your door.

That night you had worked on clearing some of the boxes out and finally took a break when your takeout arrived. You nestled yourself on the wooden floor, and looked through your phone, and smiled when you came upon a notification from just the person you were thinking of.

_ Bucky: Congrats, doll. Just landed today, have you moved in yet? _

You whirled around the glass of wine you had poured for yourself a while ago. Well.. More like your third glass. The heat in your chest made you hover over the conversation and scoff a bit as you took another sip. Your thumb pressed a couple buttons before setting the phone down on the floor and listened to the ringing that filled the room.

Bucky was in the middle of cooking a spiced version of a pasta dish his ma used to make when his phone started to vibrate on the counter. He carefully placed the wooden mixing spoon over the boiling pot of water and wiped his steamed hands on a rag as he leaned over to get a glance. He frantically grabbed his phone and answered the call, clearing his throat a bit before speaking.

“Hello?” He answered. When Bucky’s voice filled your room you spilled to yourself, picking up some of the noodles in your takeout box with the given chopsticks.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” you started. “But I’m sitting here on the floor of my new place and.. Well, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Bucky grinned to himself as he put the phone on speaker and set it on the counter, He tossed the dish towel on his shoulder and went back to stirring his pot of noodles, which should be nearly done. “You’d never be interrupting me, doll. Do you like the new place?”

“I really do,” you answered. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

Well it wasn’t a total truth. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in you, but you felt compelled to admit to yourself that you wanted to see him. As you continued to sit on the floor, Buck in turn moved towards the sink in his apartment and dumped the noodles into a strainer, and chuckled a bit to himself.

“I bet your sister is thrilled you aren’t as easily accessible now,” he joked. You smile to yourself and brought your knees to your chest.

“Oh no definitely not, but I am,” you replied.

Bucky laughed and he continued to make his dinner. The two of you continued to chat and joke around, throughout both your dinners, and into the night. Bucky had settled himself onto his bed, still holding onto his phone. He could tell by now that the alcohol you had drank had taken its toll on you. You were filled with pretty little giggles that made him smile, and he listened as you ruffled through boxes in search of something.

“What are you looking for, doll?” 

“Something… Something I remembered I wanted to share with you,” you told him. Bucky smiled and adjusted himself on the bed, lowering himself further down to rest on the pillows, and rested his arm under his head. You hummed along and he closed his eyes at the sounds, drifting along with you. He listened as you pulled something along the cardboard, and heard a quiet thump. He heard paper being flipped about, and your humming soon came to an end.

“Did you find it?” He asked. You let out a little mhm, and he smiled. “Lay it on me.”

“ What is a wound but a flower

dying on its descent to the earth,

bag of scent filled with war, forest,

torches, some trouble that befell

now over and done. A wound is a fire

sinking into itself. The tinder serves

only so long, the log holds on

and still it gives up, collapses

into its bed of ashes and sand. I burned

my hand cooking over a low flame,

that flame now alive under my skin,

the smell not unpleasant, the wound

beautiful as a full-blown peony.

Say goodbye to disaster. Shake hands

with the unknown, what becomes

of us once we’ve been torn apart

and returned to our future, naked

and small, sewn back together

scar by scar.”

Bucky stared at his ceiling as you went over the words. When you finished he was quiet, just thinking about how you always seemed to have something up your sleeve to surprise him. Always something to share with him. You rested on the floor with your back against the wall, and were staring down at the numbers growing higher on your phone. You shut your book and rubbed the cover, and looked around your surroundings. “Buck?”

“Yes, doll?” He answered immediately. His voice was low, almost in a whisper, and you smiled to yourself.

“Will we.. Will we ever meet?” You asked. Bucky sucked in a deep breath and exhaled silently. He didn’t really know how to answer, and with the way things were playing out, he wasn’t sure how this would end up. But he heard the tone in your voice, and he made a promise he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep.

“We will.. I promise we will.”


End file.
